A Thin Line Between Love and Danger

My hands are pressed further into the mattress as my fingers get entwined with their warm counterparts. Because I haven't had enough sleep this week, my eyelids are so thick that they are impossible to open. In all honesty, I haven't gotten enough sleep this whole month. Not even a single second of this year. I groan and make an effort to bring my legs closer together, but I am unable to do so. Everywhere you look, there is pressure. There, on my breast, on my face, and in the space between my legs. In spite of the fact that it takes me a few seconds to untangle my thoughts from the veil of sleep, I am awake enough to understand what he is doing. I whisper, "Bernal," that I am annoyed. "Get off of me." He repeatedly presses his weight on me, moaning against my ear as his morning stubble cuts into my cheek. He does this again. While he is breathing on my neck, he says, "I'm almost done, babe." He squeezes my hands even more tightly, reminding me that I am nothing more than a prisoner in my own bed and that he is the warden of the bedroom. I attempted to move my hands out from underneath his, but he squeezed them even more tightly. Bernal always had a way of making me feel like my body was at his disposal. He just had that way about him. In spite of the fact that he is never cruel or aggressive, he is just needy, and I find this to be bothersome. At this very moment, When it was six o'clock in the morning, darn it. The sunlight that is able to see through the opening in the door and the fact that Bernal is only now going to bed after the party that took place the night before both allow me to make an educated estimate as to the time. On the other hand, I have to be in class well before two hours have passed. The fact that I was roused from sleep after just three hours of it is not something I would have wanted to happen. As I wrap my legs around his waist, I hope that he will perceive that I am interested in this. He gets it over with more quickly when I act as if I am only somewhat interested. At the very moment that he starts to shake, he strokes my right breast, and I let out the groan that I had anticipated. He lets out a sigh as he gently rocks against me, burying his face in my hair, and says, "Fuck." After a few seconds, he falls on top of me and lets out a deep sigh. He then gives me a peck on the cheek and rolls onto his side of the bed. He then gets up, takes the condom from the bedside table, and throws it away in the trash can. After that, he grabs a bottle of water from the table next to the bed. He raises the bottle to his mouth and proceeds to run his eyes over the exposed skin on my body. A sleepy grin forms on his lips as he smiles. In a confident manner, he stands nude next to the bed while gulping down the remaining water. Even if he is attractive, he is not without his flaws. In fact, his appearance is perhaps the one aspect of him that I do not feel is lacking. He is conceited, has a short fuse, and may be difficult to manage at times. But I am loved by him. He adores me to the point of insanity. In addition, it would be dishonest of me to claim that I did not love him either. There are a lot of things about him that I would alter if I could, but for the time being, he is the only thing I have, so I have to make do with it. When I had nowhere else to go, he picked me up and took me in. There is no one else to speak to. Simply because of it, I am willing to put up with him. I do not have any other options. After wiping his mouth with his hand, he then throws the empty bottle into the garbage bin. He then repeats the process. He then moves in close to me and gives me a gentle kiss on the lips before dropping back into bed. He does this while running his hand through his thick brown hair and giving me a wink. When he turns onto his back, he says, "Goodnight, babe," as he does so. The phrase "you mean good morning" came out of my mouth as I forcibly dragged myself out of bed. As a result of my T-shirt being cinched around my waist, I grab some jeans and a separate shirt and pull it down by the shoulders. I am happy that one of our immeasurable number of housemates is not using the one and only restroom located on the upper floor as I make my way across the hallway to the shower. When I look at the clock on my phone, I squirm in discomfort because I realize that I won't even have enough time to stop for a cup of coffee. Now that it is the first class of the semester, I am already making preparations to utilize it to get some much-needed rest. The situation is not looking good. It is impossible for me to continue doing this. Bernal never shows up to class on a consistent basis, yet he consistently achieves near-perfect marks and passes all of his classes. Even though I didn't miss a single day of class during the previous semester, I'm having a hard time keeping my head above water. As far as the body is concerned,. Due to the fact that we share our home with a large number of other people, there is never a moment of peace and quiet in the house. The majority of the time, I find myself dozing off in class; it is the only time when I am able to observe a peaceful and tranquil environment. It would seem that the parties continue until the wee hours of the morning and night, regardless of who has classes the following day. In our home, there is no distinction between weekdays and weekends, and the rent has no influence on the people who choose to reside here. Most of the time, I have no one special who resides in this place. Bernal, who owns the home, enjoys the free-for-all that occurs at the rotating door since he enjoys being in the company of other people. Without a doubt, I would have my own apartment if I had the financial resources to do so. However, I do not. This only means that I have one more year of sheer torment to endure until I graduate. It will be another year before I am free. My shirt was pulled over my head and then dropped on the floor. After that, I drew the shower curtain back over my head. I let out a piercing scream at the top of my lungs as soon as I extended my hand to grab the nozzle. Murphy is our newest full-time roommate, and he is now dozing off in the bathtub while fully dressed. He jolts himself awake and slams his head into the faucet that is located above it, letting out a shout in the process. When Bernal comes through the door, I reach down and grab my shirt just in time to see him make his entrance. In a panicked manner, he asks me, "Ashley, are you okay?" while simultaneously turning me around to examine me for any injuries. As I gestured to Murphy in the bathtub, I nodded in a frantic manner. I hear Murphy grumble. 'I'm not doing well.' As he makes an effort to climb out of the tub, he protects his recently damaged forehead with his hand.